


Climate Change

by themegalosaurus



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Care of Magical Creatures, Gen, Slice of Life, Veterinary Clinic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-20
Updated: 2017-04-20
Packaged: 2018-10-21 09:22:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,382
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10682403
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/themegalosaurus/pseuds/themegalosaurus
Summary: "Perhaps this is going to be a regular thing, Amelia thinks. Once every five years a total babe is going to crash into her office and mess around with her life."





	Climate Change

**Author's Note:**

  * For [emmram](https://archiveofourown.org/users/emmram/gifts).



> I wrote this for the [SPN Spring Fling challenge](http://spnspringfling.livejournal.com/166258.html), based on some prompts from the lovely emmram. Part of the fun of Spring Fling is to make something little and a little bit new, so I hope this story has an element of the unexpected!

She’s in the break room having her cup of coffee when Maria sticks her head around the doorframe and says, “I’m sorry, honey, but do you have time for an emergency appointment?”

Amelia might not have much time for people but she’s hardly going to let an animal expire in her waiting room because she needed her caffeine fix. She looks sadly down at her half-empty mug, crams the remainder of her cookie into her mouth, and stands up. “Awrye,” she says, muffled, spitting crumbs. 

What she sees when she gets to the reception desk gives her flashbacks to another emergency, five years before. There’s a beautiful man standing in the doorway, his eyes wide and fearful and a dog blanket-wrapped in his arms. “Can you help me?” he says.

It’s not quite the same. The first thing she’d noticed about Sam had been the hair, too-long and shaggy-cut. This guy has a shaved head and it’s his eyes that are compelling, large and appealing and an astonishing shade of golden-green. He’s also wearing a black sweater that looks about three times as expensive as Sam’s entire wardrobe had been. It clings over his shoulders, making it pretty clear that what he does have in common with Amelia’s most confusing ex-boyfriend is his muscular frame. Like Sam, he’s stand-out good-looking, someone you’d turn around to look at for a second time if you passed him in the street. Perhaps this is going to be a regular thing, Amelia thinks. Once every five years a total babe is going to crash into her office and mess around with her life. She hopes not. It really wouldn’t be fair on Don.

“Okay,” she says, extra brusque because she’s feeling shaken. “This better had be an emergency. Bring him through.”

The dog he shuffles onto her surgery table is a lot smaller than Riot (who is currently snoozing, or should be, on the couch at home). This fluffy thing is still mostly a puppy, big round paws and a stumpy snout and huge pointed ears. There’s no obvious injury that she can see, but it’s obvious from how the animal slumps onto the table, head hanging, that he isn’t well.

“I think he’s overheated,” the guy says, tightly. “This, uh, this breed doesn’t do well in hot weather and I found him in an outhouse that was right in the sun. I tried to feed him some water but he’s not really responding and I know that it can be, I was worried about organ damage or something like that. I put him in a damp towel but he’s still really hot.”

Amelia lifts the skin around the puppy’s mouth and, yeah, His gums are an alarming purple-blue. She finds her thermometer, slicks it, and tells the guy to hold the dog’s head as she slips it in. The puppy barely whines. That’s not a good sign.

“He’s not your dog?” she says.

The guy shifts uncomfortably. “Not exactly.”

Amelia gives him the stare.

“My sister’s ex-boyfriend,” he says eventually. “He’s an asshole and she finally figured that out so I was at his house to collect her stuff. I heard a noise from the shed and I found this little guy and I couldn’t leave him. Sorry. Don’t call the police.”

He looks at her, his forehead creased in anxiety. That really does make him look like Sam. 

The thermometer beeps. 106. Not good. Amelia sighs, relents. “Let’s just get him sorted out,” she says. “We can talk about it after.”

The guy is even more gorgeous when he smiles.

It takes an IV line and a couple of hours of careful treatment before the puppy starts to perk up. After that, though, he recovers quickly, and Amelia’s pretty sure he’ll be okay. His temp never got higher than 106, they cooled him pretty smartly to something much more reasonable, and Max (the mystery hunk's called Max) seems to have got him to her fast enough that nothing sinister happened to his insides. Still, “I’d like to keep him in overnight,” she says. “Just so we can keep an eye on how he’s doing. He’s only small.”

Max looks cagey. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea.”

“If you’re worried about his douchebag owner,” says Amelia frankly, “you shouldn’t be. He’s not fit to have a dog. You better not be planning on taking this guy back.”

“Oh,” says Max. “Oh, the owner. Um. No, he won’t be going back.” He cups his hand over the puppy’s head and the dog pushes into it, flattening his ears against Max’s palm. “You sure he needs to be here overnight?”

“I’d feel a lot better about it.”

“Okay. Okay, um. Can I make a weird request?”

She frowns at him. “Sure?”

“Can you put, like… a big, deep bowl of water in his cage overnight? Cold water?”

“He’s cool enough now that he won’t need it,” she tells him.

“I mean it,” Max says. He closes his hands around the puppy’s middle. “Otherwise I’m going to leave with him right now.”

It’s a dumb threat when Amelia already knows that the dog isn’t his. She could call the police right now and make things a lot more complicated. But also… whatever. It’s not a big deal.

“Sure,” she says. “Whatever.”

\-----

“Your sister’s ex-boyfriend,” says Amelia.

Max looks guilty. “He’s, uh. He’s Canadian.”

She looks at him, speechless. On the table in front of her is the big red plastic tub of water she left in the puppy’s cage last night. Inside, thrashing around, is a baby orca maybe two foot long. The puppy is nowhere to be seen; and Max looks a lot less surprised than he should.

“Inuit,” Max says. “Specifically. This is an akhlut. Part dog… part orca… you haven’t heard of them?”

Amelia blinks.

“They’re really not cut out for the climate down here,” Max says. “Fucking irresponsible. Sorry. Excuse my language. But I just. It makes me angry.”

“Right,” she says. That part, getting mad at the irresponsible pet owner, she can understand. This… this dog-orca hybrid thing, she’s having more trouble with.

“Sorry,” Max says, spreading his hands. “I didn’t want to upset you, and I know this is... But I wanted him to be okay, you know?” He reaches into the bowl and scratches the orca’s head. It clicks at him.

“What are you going to do with him?” Amelia asks.

Max grins at her, gorgeous. “Have you seen ‘Free Willy’?” he says.

\-----

The truck shows up forty minutes later, a big battered red thing with a huge white plastic tank in the bed. Max’s boyfriend (his boyfriend!) remains in the cab, mysterious, as Amelia tidies up the paperwork. She’s never lied so outrageously in her life. 

“You couldn’t have transported him as a dog?” she asks. 

“He prefers being an orca,” Max says. “He doesn’t come onto land unless he has a reason for it. And so.”

“Well,” Amelia says. “Good luck? Don’t do any more illegal animal rescuing? Please never come to me with your cryptid crises again?”

“Noted,” Max says. Then he leans forward and kisses her on the cheek. “Thanks for being so cool about it.”

“Yeah,” she says. “Just… just know that if I lose my job over this, I am going to sue.”

He laughs. “Alright. Thanks.” 

“Yeah,” she says. “Get out. Don’t come back.” From his bucket, the orca pipes at her. “That goes for you too,” she tells him.

The truck roars and disappears and she’s left alone in the surgery, shaking her head. That was. She’s half-surprised that she’s not more upset. But she supposes, she’s seen worse shit. If this is what the world has in store, what’s hidden in the universe? It’s not so bad.

\-----

A week later, a bunch of flowers arrives. It’s so large that it takes up half the reception desk. The note has a polaroid photo attached, an orca tail in the water and the sun setting over the sea. ‘Willy freed!!!’ it says in Sharpied capitals on the front, and on the back in spidery handwriting that is terribly familiar, ‘(Sorry about the terrible innuendo. That’s all Max. We appreciate it. X)’.

The flowers are yellow roses. Sam used to buy her those.

**Author's Note:**

> So emmram prompted Amelia gen, Sam/Max, 'heatstroke' and 'I've seen worse', along with a couple of other items I chose not to use. But I hope that all worked! As always, I'd love to hear your comments <3


End file.
